Hollow Victory
by SophieSaulie
Summary: It's been 10 years, but it seems like yesterday then yesterday comes back to haunt. WARNING: Character death, sort of.
1. Chapter 1

**Hollow Victory**

**Chapter 1:**

Sam couldn't sleep. He had gotten used to not sleeping well over the years. He always had trouble sleeping. Part of it had come with the training. You had to be alert to be a hunter. You never really fully slept. You always kept one eye open, as Dean would often tell him. Then when he had become a student, the long hours studying in libraries and dorm rooms usually turned into all-nighters.

When Jessica had died, he had barely closed his eyes for days, only sleeping when his body couldn't take the deprivation any more and he had to surrender unwillingly. Over time, Dean had helped him through losing her and he had started to sleep again, if fitfully.

Sleep was eluding him tonight because it had been ten years ago. Ten years since he had lost the one life he would have given anything to save. Even after all these years, it made his heart tighten at the memory. After several hours, Sam knew it would be futile to try and fall asleep so he decided to get up and walked into the living room. There, he found the chair that Sarah had insisted they buy because it was the only one that could handle him curling up in it. Sam smiled at the thought. She'd been right and it had become his favorite, especially on nights like these.

Just as he settled into it, he heard his cell phone ringing on his desk. He reached for it, recognized the number and answered it.

"Hey, Bobby," Sam said tiredly.

"How did I know you'd be up at this hour?" Bobby scolded lightly on the other end.

"Just like **I** knew you'd be calling at this hour," Sam teased.

Sam heard Bobby grumble about being a smart aleck and he couldn't help smiling.

"You coming up?" Sam asked.

"Yeh."

"Great. Sarah and the kids will be glad to see you…" Sam paused. "Me too."

"I'll be there first thing…" Bobby said as he paused too. "Sam?"

"Yeh?"

"I miss him, son."

"Yeh, Bobby, me too," Sam said, his voice quavering.

Sam hung up, immersed himself into the soft folds of the chair and he let his thoughts wander. He was looking forward to seeing Bobby. Their visits had become few and far between these days. Bobby had decided that he was getting too old to be tossed around by angry spirits anymore so he had settled into being Sam's researcher and experienced mentor until, as Bobby had put it, "life has decided it's had enough of me". Sam was grateful for the comfort Bobby provided him. He was a familiar voice, a warm presence. Family. All the family he had left other than Sarah and the kids. Though Sarah had met Dean, she had never come to know him and the kids had never met their uncle so Sam had relied on Bobby to help him keep the memories alive for him. Not that it was hard to do because when his mind wasn't on his family or hunting, it would stray to remembering Dean, but it was nice to talk to someone who had known the kind of man Dean had been and who could enjoy the story telling with him or share in the tears of his loss.

Finally, Sam let the weariness take him over and he fell asleep in his comfy chair.

Sam found himself being awakened by someone tugging at him, breaking him from his, thankfully, dreamless, sleep.

"Daddy? Daddy, wake up," the familiar voice of his eldest son called.

Sam groaned a bit and opened his eyes.

"Hey, buddy, what are you doing up?"

"It's morning, Daddy. You must have fallen asleep in the chair."

"Oh, yeh, you're right."

He looked beyond his 5 year-old son and saw Sarah standing there, beautiful even at that hour in the morning.

"Hey, Sleepy Head, Bobby will be here any minute. Mind getting up and helping me get the kids ready," Sarah teased as she smiled brightly at her mop-haired husband.

Sam smiled back and uncurled himself out of his chair.

"Be right there," Sam said.

Sarah walked over and kissed Sam on the top of his head. She combed back the hair from his eyes and face then looked at him, her eyes filled with love and concern for him.

"I love you," she said.

"Me too," Sam smiled back and hugged her.

He never thought he would ever find love again, let alone have a family. Sarah had been a lifesaver for him. She had made him believe that he could live again after losing Dean.

She then walked back towards the kitchen where Sam could hear his other children squealing in the background. Sam started to stand up and lifted his son into his arms then onto his shoulders.

"Okay, Dean, let's help Mommy get your brother and sister, ready, huh?"

"Okay, Daddy! Let's help Mommy!" Dean said.

Today of all days reminded Sam of how much he had missed Dean, seeing his son so eager to help his siblings. Back when Sam and Dean were kids, it hadn't been quite so happy-go-lucky, but Dean had always seen to Sam's needs. Little Dean reminded Sam of what Dean might have been like at 4, before they had lost their mom, helpful and caring. He had never stopped caring for Sam even well into their adult years. He swallowed a lump in his throat then sat Dean down into his chair.

Once Sarah and Sam got the kids dressed and off next door to play with the neighbors, Bobby had arrived, a plate of eggs and bacon waiting for him along with a hot cup of black coffee.

"Bless that wife of yours," Bobby said as he sat down and dove in.

Sam smiled at the man he had considered like a second father. The kids called him Uncle Bobby because he hadn't been fond of being called Gramps, but he might as well have been a grandfather to them.

"Yeh, I'm a lucky guy…" Sam smiled, his expression wistful and grateful.

"So, how you holding up?"

"Okay, it's just…" Sam stumbled. "When my mind's taken up with getting the kids ready, I'm okay, it's just at night when they're all asleep is when I really can't stop thinking about him. I can't believe it's been ten years."

Bobby took a swig of coffee then sighed.

"I know. I can't either. Some nights, it feels like yesterday."

"Yeh, I know," Sam said, his expression softening. "Thanks for always coming up every year."

"Nonsense, you're like family, Sam. Hell, you **are** my family and I wouldn't miss your wife's cooking for anything in the world. A bachelor's life doesn't afford cuisine like hers. I'm lucky I crack open a can of beans some nights."

"Why don't you move up here and be close to us?" Sam asked. "Sarah worries about you being all alone."

"Can't change my stripes, Sam. That house is all I have in the world. It has all of my memories tucked away in it. My wife's memories are there, too, both the good and the bad. I can't leave it."

Sam nodded in understanding.

"Your room's ready as usual."

"When are we leaving?"

"In a minute. Sarah's getting ready."

"Okay."

"In the meantime, we can catch up."

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hollow Victory**

**Chapter 2:**

They had arrived at the cemetery, their thoughts heavy and their hearts filled with sadness. Sam had taken loving care of the Impala over the years and though the finish had dulled a bit, every time Sam heard the roar of the engine, he could swear he could hear Dean's voice there. Dean had taught him how to take care of it in his last year. It had became another thing that had bonded Sam to his big brother who had loved the car, but never more than he had loved his little brother.

Sam and Sarah walked hand in hand as Bobby followed beside them. They headed up a hilly knoll that had a small view. Sam knew that Dean would never have cared about such details, but it made Sam feel good that he had given Dean a nice place to rest.

They walked up to the headstone and stopped. Sarah took the wildflowers in her hand and placed them in front of it. She kissed her hand and placed it on the stone before she stood up again. She squeezed Sam's hand and he returned it. Bobby took off his well-worn hat and hung his head. He would never forget how Dean had reached out to him in his nightmare dream world to tell him that he wasn't going to let him die, that he was like a father to him. His declaration had snapped him out of his stupor and he had seen the sincerity in Dean's eyes. He would never forget him for that nor could he ever return the favor.

There was silence in the air except for the birds twittering and the day was bathed in a golden sunlight that warmed all their faces. Sam bent down on one knee and placed his hand on the stone. He knew it was just rock, but for some inexplicable reason, he would swear that seconds after touching it, he would feel warmth replacing the cold underneath his hand.

He gazed at the carved lettering. It was simple. Dean's name, the years, and an inscription, Son, Brother, Hero. It was what Dean would have wanted. Nothing chick flicky. Though Sam knew that Dean would have balked at the word, hero, he couldn't bring himself to omit it. Dean had never considered himself a hero, of course, but to Sam, Dean had been a hero from the time he had been born and he had been a hero to friends and strangers alike who had known him.

Sam then stood up. There was never a need for words between them. They had never wasted time with eulogies. It wasn't Dean's desire to be eulogized. Sam knew that Dean had just expected to die in battle then forgotten shortly thereafter, just another casualty in the war, but Sam could never just do that, neither could Bobby or Sarah. They came every year because they had wanted to be close to him, to remember him. Simple as that.

**oooo**

Sam, Sarah and Bobby returned from the cemetery, emotionally spent. Sarah went over to the neighbors to retrieve the kids and Bobby and Sam sat in the den together, drinking beers.

"To Dean," Bobby said as he raised his glass.

"To Dean," Sam joined only his voice softer and a touch throaty.

A moment of silence passed between them. Sam's eyes began to well.

"I still can't believe he's gone. Sometimes, I think I'll see him out of the corner of my eye or expect to hear him complaining down the hall of the house."

Bobby nodded.

"I know, son."

"I don't know if I'll get over it, over losing him, of not being able to save him," Sam said, allowing himself to break down in front of his dear old friend who had fought side by side with both of them then with Sam, alone, in the war until they had eventually won a few years later, but the victory had been hollow for them.

"I know how you feel. Back there at the gravesite, I couldn't help remembering when Dean saved me from my nightmare. He probably didn't tell you, but he snapped me out of it by telling me he wasn't going to let me die, that I was like a father to him. My heart still aches that I couldn't do the same for him."

Sam looked over and understood.

"I couldn't either. He did, though, at least from Hell. You'd think I would be grateful for that, but I'm not. I want him here. I want him back."

Sam then sobbed.

**oooo**

_**Flashback**_

"_No, Dean, I won't do it."_

"_Why? It'll work."_

"_That's the problem," Sam said._

"_Okay, you've lost me now," Dean said, frustrated._

"_It means you have to die."_

"_But I won't go to Hell and it'll keep you safe."_

"_And dying is okay with you? Did you lie to me about not wanting to die?"_

_Dean rolled his eyes. Why did his brother have to be such an elephant and remember everything?_

"_No, I meant what I said, I don't want to die, but…"_

"_But what?" Sam challenged._

"_Sam, as much as I want to live, dying doesn't scare me, but Hell…I'm not as brave as Dad was. I don't want to end up there."_

_Sam listened and hadn't considered that Dean would be willing to die to avoid Hell. Still, Sam didn't understand why they had to settle for that._

"_But Dean, we have time, maybe we can find a way to have both."_

"_We've tried and tried, Sam, but this is the only way that keeps the Hell fires from licking at my feet. We only have a month left and this will only work in the lunar cycle." _

_Sam was crestfallen. Dean was right, of course, but it didn't make the choice any easier._

"_I wanted to save you, Dean."_

"_You will be, Sam," Dean said gently. "From Hell."_

_Sam looked into his big brother's eyes and took in a breath. It wasn't good enough._

"_I shouldn't have trusted Ruby. I should have known she was lying to me about saving you. I wasted too much time. You were right about her all along."_

"_Sam, she gave you hope. To be honest, I was hoping you were right about her."_

"_Dean, I don't think I can do it. I'll be killing you."_

_Dean was taken aback that Sam would think he was killing him._

"_Listen to me, Sam, you won't be killing me. You're just doing a ritual –"_

"_That's going to rip your soul out of you while you're still alive. It saves the soul from Hell, but the text doesn't say where it'll end up and your body, the strain…having no soul…you'll…"_

"_I know. You're not the only one who can do research. I've done the homework. Bobby says he can do it, but I can't do it, won't do it unless it's okay with you. Dad made the choice for us, and it nearly destroyed us both. I won't do that to you. I'm not saying that this is a stellar idea, but I don't see that we have too many choices here."_

"_Some choice. You dead without your soul or you dead with your soul in Hell. Our lives are TRULY weird," Sam joked weakly._

"_You're telling me," Dean smiled, repeating a similar strained conversation that had felt like centuries ago._

"_Dean, don't lie to me. Are you really okay with this?"_

"_Yeh, Sam, I am."_

_Dean's calm resolve and certainty made Sam feel selfish for wishing that Dean would change his mind for his sake. _

"_Okay."_

_Bobby had made the preparations though he was heartbroken with every act that brought them closer to losing Dean. With all the symbols written, the candles lit, the book to recite from firmly in his hands and Dean splayed on the floor like Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man, Bobby signaled to Sam that he was ready. Sam had tied Dean's hands and feet to stakes he had placed on the floor. Dean had insisted on it in case the pain became too much or in case something went wrong. Bobby and Sam had to be protected, had to be given time to get a weapon if needed. Each tie and knot brought bile into Sam's throat and it stung painfully. Once done, Sam could only nod to the both of them._

"_Dean, are you sure you want to do this?" Bobby asked, hoping, himself, that Dean would change his mind, but knowing better that he wouldn't._

"_I'm sure…and Bobby?"_

"_Yeh?"_

"_Thank you for doing this, I know that it was a lot to ask but –"_

"_Nonsense. You're family," Bobby choked his emotions back. "You're like a son to me."_

_Dean nodded in understanding, remembering his similar words to Bobby and gave him a small smile._

"_Sam?" Dean called out._

_Sam was trembling and couldn't stop it._

"_Are you okay?" Dean asked._

"_I'm okay. I'm just –"_

"_Scared," Dean finished._

"_Yeh. Terrified actually, if you want to know the truth."_

"_I get that," Dean admitted. "Sam?"_

"_Yeh?"_

"_I know you don't think this is the right thing to do, but promise me you won't let this break you. It's not what I want."_

"_I don't know…I don't know if I can."_

"_Please Sammy, for me," Dean said, hating to pull a guilt trip on top of all that Sam was going through now, but it was his one last selfish act before he faced the truly unknown. He didn't even know if he'd remember Sam, but if there were a way to do it, he would do it._

_Sam looked into his brother's face and couldn't refuse him._

"_Okay, Dean."_

_Dean nodded._

"_Okay, Bobby, let's do this."_

_Bobby nodded and began chanting. At some point, Sam joined him and they chorused the words together. Sam had to struggle to keep focused and Dean could hear his baby brother's voice cracking through. For the first time, there was nothing Dean could do to help or protect Sam. He knew that nothing he could say would make Sam feel better. Sam was doing this for him and suffering every moment to make it happen. _

_Dean took in a few deep breaths. He wasn't used to just laying around, waiting for something to happen. His pride and protectiveness wouldn't let him admit it to Sam, but he was scared too. Mostly because he didn't know what was going to happen to him. He didn't like surprises and wished he could be prepared for what was coming. The descriptions in the books weren't too specific, but just specific enough to tell him that there would pain, lots of it, of his soul being pulled from his body, causing damage to his body. Not very comforting, but he knew it was the only thing they could do. If there was a chance to keep him from going to Hell, he had to take it. He was telling Sam the truth about not wanting to go there, but it had as much to do with Sam as it had for him. He knew that going to Hell would damage Sam even more just as knowing their father had done the same for him had damaged him. He understood what that uncertainty felt like, not knowing or, worse, imagining the kinds of tortures that their father must have endured had eaten him up inside. He had gone to his own private Hell then. He knew that Sam would go through the same thing. Even if there were no assurances that his soul would end up somewhere safe and away from Hell, it was better knowing that Sam could tell himself that Dean wasn't suffering in Hell. He'd take all the suffering the ritual would inflict on him to spare Sam that thought for the rest of his life._

_Sam watched Dean as he chanted. He saw the hunter in Dean doing his best to be ready for whatever was coming, but he also saw the brother who had always protected him and didn't want to let him go. Sam then saw Dean's body arch and clench in pain, his hands griping the restraints, pulling at them, his breathing becoming rapid and strained. Sam knew he was helpless to comfort his brother until the ritual was over and only then to ease him into death as best as he could. He had to keep chanting and he knew that Dean was doing everything he could to keep his pain under control so he wouldn't distract him. Still, Sam knew there would be pain and it would take all he had to ignore the sound of his brother's suffering._

_Dean grabbed at his restraints, twisting them in his hands. The pain came in a rush and the immediate intensity had surprised him. It caused his body to wrench and arch up from the floor as he gasped and groaned. He didn't want to distract Sam, but he was finding it hard to keep from crying out and didn't think he could hold back for much longer. He felt pulling and ripping inside of him and tried to pant and grunt through the spasms. He swallowed every wave down with struggled breathing. Finally, it became too much for him and what sounded like a grunt and cough choked out of his mouth._

_Sam heard him and felt his hands trembling trying to hold the book up, resisting every instinct to drop it and run over to his brother. He concentrated on the text because if he didn't, tears would well into his eyes and he couldn't have his vision overcome with the emotion that was dying to be let out. In his mind, all Sam could do was remind himself, "Dean wants this. I have to get through it for him. I can't risk making a mistake and have his soul be lost forever. I can't. I won't. He's counting on me. I can't let him down. Not this time." The chanting escalated and Bobby signaled to him with a look that they were almost done. _

_Once the last word was uttered, Sam dropped the book he was holding and crawled over to Dean where all he heard was coughing and labored breathing._

"_Dean?" Sam called out as he untied his brother's hands and feet, Dean shaking from the pain._

_Once he had undone them, he took his brother's body into his arms. There wasn't a mark on him, nothing to show for all the pain that he was enduring. It felt unnatural and unfair to see him whole, but dying nonetheless._

"_Dean? Can you hear me?"_

"_S…Sam?" Dean wheezed out, arching in Sam's arms as his body was wracked with more pain._

"_Yeh, yeh, it's me," Sam assured._

"_Is…it…over?"_

"_Yeh…"_

"_Don't feel…any different…'cept for the…pain."_

_Sam couldn't hold back his emotions anymore and his eyes immediately welled with dammed back tears. Dean then shook with more pain. He squeezed Sam's shirt and threw his head back, grunting and wheezing._

"_Sam?"_

"_Yeh, Dean, I'm here. I'm with you."_

_"Sam...my…y…you don't need t…to be more like me...you c...can w...win this war on y...your own...don't...lose yourself...not to me...not…to…Ruby…not to any demon. You're better…than that."_

_"Dean...I...I can't do this. I can't fight this war alone, not without you."_

_"Yeh, you can...and y...you will...I know it..."_

_Dean struggled to catch his breath as pain continued to shudder his body._

"_P…p…promise…me…you won't trust…R…Ruby…something wrong…feel it… she's using you…"_

_Sam could only nod. Dean's face then became filled with emotion._

_"I'm s...sorry for doing this to you...I know…I had no right...I was wrong...but I wasn't about you...never was...about y...you..."_

_Dean looked into his brother's eyes and his face took on a look of determination._

"_P…promise…m…me…n…no…deals…"_

_Sam was, at first, caught off guard, but then understood._

"_Dean –"_

"_Sam…p…promise…me…" Dean insisted with difficulty._

_Sam felt his strength and control leaving him as his eyes filled with more tears._

"_No deals. I promise."_

"_S…Sam…my?" Dean gasped. "D…don't lose…y…your h…humanity…okay? Don't…stop being…human…remember you said…choices…supposed to be hard…but you don't give in…to what's…easy…"_

"_Yeh, I remember," Sam said, unable to stop sobbing._

"_Promise…me…you'll…live…p…please…"_

"_I-" _

"_P…please, Sammy…do that…for me…"_

_Sam felt as if the air had been knocked out of him. Dean had barely pleaded with him for anything in their lives other than wanting to be a family again and for time to deal with their father's secret. Both times Sam had denied him and one of those times Dean had almost died fighting to protect his family. How could he deny him now?_

"_Okay, Dean, I will," Sam said, his chest tightening so much he could barely breathe._

_Dean's breathing quickened then took on a frightening "death rattle" sound. He tried to mouth something else, but had nothing left to expend to utter the words. He looked into Sam's face and communicated in the only way he had left to him, with his eyes. They expressed love, regret and pride and Sam felt every one of them back for his brother. Dean's eyes then slowly fluttered closed and what life Dean had, left him._

"_Dean?" Sam uttered with hushed incomprehension._

_He then watched in awe and fear as a transparent version of Dean pulled away from his brother's body, gazed at him, smiled and floated lithely skyward then disappeared._

_Sam held his brother in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably. Bobby didn't have the heart to interrupt them. He sat absently into a chair and had trouble finding his own breath as he found it choked with emotion for the loss of someone he had considered like a son._

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hollow Victory**

**Chapter 3:**

Sam wiped the tears from his eyes.

"I killed him, Bobby."

Bobby stared wide-eyed at Sam and was aghast at his statement.

"What?" Bobby said. "You can't believe that."

"I didn't save him. What would call it?" Sam said, angry at himself.

"Of course you saved him, Sam. You saved him from Hell."

"Does that really make a difference?"

"I am surprised to hear you say such a thing. You know that it makes a world of difference."

"Do I? Dean's still dead."

"And are you telling me that you would rather have Dean just as dead, but his soul being tortured in Hell?" Bobby scolded.

Sam was silent.

"I would think not because if you had said yes, I'd be doing an exorcism on you right now because the Sam Winchester I know would never wish that on anyone let alone his brother."

Sam turned away, ashamed.

"I know you're hurting. Don't think you've been that good at hiding it. I know your family gives you joy and you'd do anything for them, but in the end, it's only temporary. You have a hole in you that can never be filled up again and you're living half a life because of it. You think Dean would want that?"

"I know he wouldn't, but I can't stop it."

"Well, maybe the key is to stop running from it. Dean is gone. He's never coming back. You can't fill that hole up, but you can live on," Bobby said gently. "Maybe it's about time you left hunting. The war's over now. Other hunters can get the rest of it done."

Sam looked into Bobby's eyes with dismay.

"I can't. It's all I have left of Dean."

"Are you hunting because of Dean? Why? You can't be what you aren't, son. You're a great hunter, but you hate the job. It doesn't give you what you need."

"It gives me Dean for a little while."

"You can't live a life that's no longer here, Sam. Dean loved hunting, loved saving people. Doing it for him, won't bring him back and it's an injustice to his memory for you to be someone you can never be."

Sam heaved a sigh, but had no more to say. Bobby looked at the remaining Winchester brother and could only feel a deep sense of sadness. He didn't know if there were any words that could heal Sam.

"Look, you think on what I've said. This isn't done. I'm not leaving until I can convince you that you have to move on. I did that once and it's why you're suffering now. I won't lose you too," Bobby said as he left to go to his room for the night.

Sam, though tired, couldn't let go of his memories. Even with ten years having past, he could still hear Dean's laughter, feel his zest for life, often drawing on that energy to get him through, even when facing death, his devotion to him, it was all still there. He sat in his chair, unable to hold back his tears.

Bobby's words had been poignant. Sam had forgotten how much of what had happened to Dean Bobby had felt responsible for. Nothing from Dean or Sam could convince him that there was nothing he could have done. Sam knew that he wasn't the only one who still carried the burden of that deal. Though he knew Bobby was right, he couldn't find it in him to let Dean go.

Suddenly he heard little feet coming into the room and spotted little Dean walking in. Sam wiped the tears from his face, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to fool his son. Dean walked up tentatively to him and put a small hand on Sam's.

"What's wrong, Daddy? Are you hurt?"

Sam smiled shakily at the simplicity of his son's words.

"No, no, Daddy's not hurt.""

"Then why are you crying?"

"Daddy's just a little sad, is all."

"Why?"

"I was missing your Uncle Dean."

"Mommy said that he was safe in Heaven and watching over us."

Sam stiffened. Dean had told him that their mother had tucked him into bed when he was little and told him that angels were watching over them. He'd like to believe that Dean was doing that too.

"Yeh, yeh, he is. He was always protecting me when I was little like you. Even when I got bigger too," Sam smiled at the thought.

"Why were you thinking of him?"

"Oh, because I wish he was still here. That you had met him."

"What was he like?"

Sam propped little Dean into his lap.

"He was my hero. He was a lot of people's hero."

"Even Uncle Bobby's?"

Sam laughed. He loved his little boy's innocence. He now understood why Dean had wanted to keep Sam's innocence for as long as he could. He felt the same way with his son.

"Yeh, even Uncle Bobby."

"Wow. Tell me about him Daddy."

Sam wished that there were pictures of Dean. The only ones they had were on fake IDs or mug shots and he didn't want little Dean to see his uncle that way. Maybe when he got older, he could explain that, but not now. The others were when they were little kids with their dad. Some were ones Dean had saved that had their whole family in them in happier, more innocent times. Some day he'd share those too, but for now, he had to get his son to bed.

"Maybe tomorrow. It's way past your bedtime, young man."

Little Dean pouted and another laugh tickled out of Sam. It reminded him of how Dean had pouted when he didn't get his way.

Sam looked into his son's eyes, hoping to see some remnant of Dean in them.

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hollow Victory**

**Chapter 4:**

When they all woke up in the morning, the day was gloriously sunny and Sarah suggested a day in the park to picnic and play. Bobby wasn't too thrilled with the idea, but played along for the kids. Sam, too, was distracted and wasn't in the mood to pretend he was happy, but knew he had to try to work through the blues he was feeling. Once he started playing with the kids, his gloom began to lift slowly and he was beginning to feel a little bit better as he always did for a little while.

Little Dean and his siblings were throwing a ball around when it was thrown over Dean's head. He watched it fly and land then he ran to get it. He saw it then roll up to a pair of leather boots. The person bent down, the holes in his jeans showing his knees and took the ball. Little Dean looked up into the face of a young man with short-cropped hair, warm and friendly green eyes and a soft, welcoming smile.

"This yours, little buddy?" The voice asked.

"My daddy told me not to talk to strangers," little Dean said, acting wary and careful.

"Your daddy's a smart man. You should always watch out for yourself and your family."

Little Dean smiled and nodded.

"Here's your ball then."

The young man handed the ball back into little Dean's hands and the small boy smiled again, feeling like he knew the young man and wasn't afraid of him.

Sam looked up and caught little Dean talking to a man by a bench. When he recognized whom he saw, his hunter's instincts kicked and he ran over to his son.

"Hey, Dean, you know better than to wander off," Sam said lightly so as to not scare him, but his eyes never wavered from the impersonator watching him. "Why don't you head back to your mom and Uncle Bobby, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," little Dean said as he turned to the stranger. "Thank you."

The stranger nodded and smiled as little Dean toddled off back to the others.

"Great kid you have there, Sam. I always knew you'd make an awesome dad," Dean said wistfully.

"Look, I don't know who or what you are, but you stay away from my family," Sam spouted angrily and protectively.

Dean smiled with pride at his little brother.

"My own brother doesn't trust me. I'm proud of you, Sam," Dean teased.

Sam looked quizzically at what looked like his brother.

"Dean?"

"In the flesh, well, sort of," Dean smiled.

"How can I trust you?"

"Well, I'd say trust your feelings, but that might sound too Obi Wan," Dean joked. "It is me though, Sam. Can't prove it to you other than to say that I'm telling you the truth."

Sam looked around him to see if anything else was coming up or behind him or if anyone else could see Dean.

"There's no one else around. It's just you and me and just so you know, people can see you're talking to me. They won't be carting you off to a rubber room."

Sam was in shock and in turmoil. He wanted to believe so much, but there was just too much training embedded in his instincts to truly believe.

"Wow. I've left my little brother speechless. I never thought I'd live to see the day…well, I guess I really didn't live, but –"

Sam's eyes began to well. He couldn't stop them. He had been so full of emotion the last couple of days and he had yearned for this moment with Dean so much over the years. To hear his voice, to see his face, it was all too much to take in.

"Dean, is that really you?"

"Yeh, Sam, it's me. I'm not a doppelganger or anything evil. I'm here because you and me, we have to talk."

Dean indicated the bench and Sam sat down in it with wobbly legs, never taking his eyes off of Dean.

"Sam, will you please stop staring at me. People will wonder if we're gay again," Dean joked.

Sam shook himself, but was still unable to form any words to say to his brother's ghost.

"You have a great family, Sammy. I knew Sarah was the girl for you," Dean grinned, trying to break Sam's silence.

"I killed you," Sam finally said and let his defenses go down.

Dean looked into his little brother's eyes and saw the raw pain and suffering there. Despite all that Sam had achieved with Sarah and his children, the night Dean had died had haunted Sam for ten years and was continuing to haunt him.

"No, Sam, you didn't."

"I let you decide to die. I should have fought harder."

"Sammy –"

"Doesn't matter if you or Bobby tell me it was the only thing to do, the right thing to do, I should never have let it happen. I should have saved you."

Dean sat down on the bench next to Sam, weighing his next words, knowing they would be important.

"I know you think you could have or should have saved me, but truth of the matter is, I couldn't be saved, Sammy. At least not and stay alive anyway. I now understand why. I'm here now so I can explain it to you so you can let your guilt and me go."

Sam calmed a little and was ready to listen, but he had a look of skepticism on his face.

"My contract, the demon who wouldn't free me from it? Turns out the crossroads demon lied to you, just like all demons do, just like she lied to me. She made it sound like it was just like any other deal she's made, but it wasn't. Not for me. You see, someone else bought my contract after it was made. It was ironclad because I was needed here."

"Here? Where's here?"

"There isn't a name for it, really, but think of the movie _Ghost._ Dead Patrick Swayze keeping Demi Moore safe from his swindling best friend. I'm there."

Sam's face revealed doubt, confusion, fear, and all kinds of other emotions. Dean should have known better than to use a movie metaphor on Sam.

"I'm a hunter here, Sam. I've been fighting the war with you, just on this side of the divide, call it sealing the deal or keeping anything here from getting to you, but I've never left your side or Bobby's. I've done my best to keep you all safe, to keep what's here from getting to you there."

Sam took in a breath to absorb everything Dean was telling him.

"So you see, you didn't kill me. It was my time. You let me die on my own terms and you saved me from Hell. Once I was here, it was like I never left you. I've watched you fall in love again, have your kids, have a life. But you were holding yourself back by holding on to me and you were hurting. So I'm here to tell you to let me go. To stop hunting and live the life you want to live, the life I want you to live."

"Dean, I don't know if I can –"

"You can, you just don't want to and I won't let you stop living because of me," Dean insisted gently. "I'm okay, Sam. My soul was saved by you. I'm not suffering."

Sam looked into his big brother's face, untarnished by the passing years, still looking his 29 years the day he had left him and took in a long breath.

"Listen to Bobby and give up the hunting. It was never what you wanted. I want you to leave it behind. Go back to school, become a lawyer or whatever you want. Give your children the love and attention that you never got from Dad or from me."

"No, Dean you –"

"Sam, face it. Dad did his best, so did I, but in the end, you didn't get what you needed from us. You deserved better. You deserve this chance at a better life."

"You did a lot, Dean."

"Only to keep you going, but it wasn't enough to keep you happy. Be honest, Sam. You were miserable. You put up a good front for me, but it was only for me. I don't want that for you now and you don't need to put up a front for me anymore."

Sam looked away for a second, swallowed and looked back.

"I'm afraid of losing you all over again if I let go," Sam admitted.

"You never did lose me. I'm there with you, maybe not like I used to be, but I am there."

"The headstone?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded.

"It's not like we're holding hands or anything, but just so you know."

Sam snorted with laughter then nodded, comforted by the thought that he hadn't been imagining things.

"Are you still hunting where you are?"

"Yeh, it's kinda cool, Sam. All that Latin, it's all in my head now. I'm the brains and the brawn, man. I'm awesome here."

Sam couldn't help laughing and it came easily and freely.

"Now that's the Sam I like to hear. Dude, you really need to loosen up. You have a smoking hot wife, three great kids, why be such a downer?"

Sam smiled again.

"What about you?"

"Uh, in case you didn't notice, can't have those things here. Though, I gotta say, there are some hot demon chicks here –"

"Spare me, okay?" Sam protested with a laugh, but then got serious again. "No, I mean, don't you want to rest? I mean you deserve to have peace. You've earned it."

"Sam, I'm not tormented here and I'll rest when I'm…oh, I guess I'm already dead, huh?"

"Stop kidding around."

"God, you are just **such** a buzzkill," Dean joked, but saw the concern on Sam's face. "I will rest, but only when I don't have to protect you anymore and you're here which won't be for a LONG, LONG, LONG time so lighten up."

Sam looked at Dean and his lip trembled.

"Will you be there when I…"

Dean took in a breath and the idea of Sam's death still gave him pain, even knowing that the next time Sam died, he would be there waiting for him. All he could was nod his head. To express it would be too much for him.

"But Sam, no cheating. You hear me? You have everything to live for and I'm not worth dying for. Not anymore."

Sam understood.

"Okay, then, get back to your family," Dean said, quickly changing the subject. "They're probably wondering where you've wandered off to, of course, anyone can spot you within a 2 mile radius."

"Shut up," Sam smiled.

A moment of silence passed as Sam struggled to walk away from Dean.

"Gotta say, that little Dean, he's got my looks."

Sam turned to look at his son.

"No, he doesn't!"

When he looked back, Dean was gone. He couldn't help the pull he felt on his heart.

"Kinda cool, huh, Sammy?" A voice said into his ear. "I'm always here for you, bro. Always will be."

Sam let his eyes fill again as he searched around to find Dean, knowing he wouldn't see him. As clichéd as it was Sam felt a weight lift from him. Seeing Dean again, hearing that he was okay, made him feel better, more at peace with himself and with how Dean had died now. Dean was happy and that was finally good enough for him, finally good enough to live on like Dean had wanted.

Sam strode back to his family and allowed the true feelings of release overtake him. He played airplane with his children, kissed his loving and hot wife, and gave Bobby a smile that made the old man wonder what had suddenly come over Sam. Sam would tell Bobby what had happened later so that he could give him peace as well, knowing that Dean was okay.

When everyone had settled down for lunch, as they started eating their sandwiches, Sam looked at everyone he loved and smiled.

"Okay, who's ready for a story?"

"YAY!" His children screamed with delight.

"Once upon a time there were two brothers…"

Dean materialized for a moment and smiled.

"Make me a superhero, Sammy."

**FIN**

**Hope everyone enjoyed it! Thanks for reading and reviewing!! It's always welcome and appreciated!**


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